"Hey friend, do you want to ra ce?"

Last night, Steffie, my best friend aware of my trauma involving the whole poem stuff decided that what we needed a night to just smoke cigarettes, drink slurpies, eat doritos and drive around aimlessly listening to the radio really loud.

So we're in south edison on woodbridge avenue. It's 2 AM, all the bars are closing (i know my mom says its the worst time to drive, whatever) and we're about to turn down plainfield to pass that big Mack Truck place by Wick Plaza. We're in the turning lane. and this Honda Civic pulls up next to Steffies Caliber. The little indian driving guy does the "roll down the window' signal so Steph sighs and rolls down the window figuring he needed directions or something.

"Hey friend do you want to race?" He gives us an overly enthusiastic thumbs up.
"Uhh, no." Steph says.
"haha then we win!!!" there are atleast six guys in this car and they all have really thick punjab accents
"fine, you win." i mutter and steph yells out the window. they keep doing their little dance.
"You a little tipsy boys?" steph asks
"Oh, just a little."

The light turns green. We go, trying not to pee ourselves laughing. Seriously, we had to pull onto Jefferson blvd by that baseball field just to recover becuase it was so ridiculous.

we went home, made brownies and shot pool until the sun came up.